


An Unexpected Case

by springhorton



Series: The DI Lestrade & Rory Slippery Stories [1]
Category: Fortysomething, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Requires Belief Suspenders, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 20:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springhorton/pseuds/springhorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rory Slippery witnesses a murder, Inspector Lestrade ends up with the case. It isn't his usual kind of investigation, but he finds himself unable to turn the case over to anyone else. As the unexpected investigation progresses both he and Rory Slippery also begin to realise some unexpected things about themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Case

**Author's Note:**

> I know this may seem a really unusual pairing to some, but I've always liked a Rupert Graves/Benedict Cumberbatch connection and I am much too devoted to Sherlock/John so I thought of another Cumberbatch portrayal that really seemed to work for me in the end. Give it a try, you might like it!

Rory Slippery, twenty-four, got up one morning in his new flat. He’d recently left the one that he and his brother Dan had been sharing and moved here, the basement of the shelter where he worked. In recent months he’d become quite devoted to his job with the homeless and downtrodden. He was beginning to think that he might just make it his life’s work.  
He stretched and threw off the covers before getting up and getting dressed. While he was brushing his teeth he heard footsteps upstairs. The nightly stayovers must have been getting up too. He glanced at his watch and saw that he was late. The night shift weren’t always reliable. They were supposed to wait until he had clocked in to leave, but he knew that they probably hadn’t.  
He cursed under his breath and rushed to put his shoes on. Before he could, though, the footsteps became stomps and he could hear shouts coming through his ceiling. He dropped the shoes and ran upstairs in his socks.  
When he burst out of his room, the shelter was in chaos. There were people running out the front door, a teenager mother standing in a corner, cradling her screaming baby and two men in the center of the room swinging fists at each other.  
“No, no, no!” Rory shouted and ran towards the men. “No fighting in here,” he tried to tell them, but it did no good. They didn’t even acknowledge his presence. He grabbed one of the men to pull him away, but the larger man just shrugged off Rory’s skinny frame.  
The man took another swing at his opponent, landing it squarely on the jaw, but the other man barely noticed. Rory could see the crazed look in the man’s eye and figured he was probably high on some kind of drug. I shouldn’t be doing this, he thought to himself, but he grabbed the man’s arm to keep him from returning the punch.  
This man did not simply shrug Rory off, though. This man turned with an inhuman growl and Rory instantly knew he should have left well enough alone. The reciprocating punch was then thrown at him. He felt a white hot pain shoot through his left eyeball and his head whip to the side. He stumbled backwards and instinctively put his hands up to protect his face. The man came at him as he moved back and sent his fist into Rory’s stomach, knocking the air out of him. Rory doubled over and his knees hit the floor. He felt another punch slam into his nose and hot blood drench his face. He curled up into a ball, expecting the crazed man to start kicking him, but he didn’t. Instead, his opponent grabbed the man from behind and pulled him off.  
“Don’t you hurt Rory,” he heard the man yell and his fists began swinging again.  
Rory watched in a daze as the man threw punch after punch, knocking the other man to the floor. He continued to punch wildly, blood drenching his fist, and Rory realised that he was going to kill the other man.  
He stumbled to his feet and shouted, “No, don’t! Stop!” He made it over to the two men, but knew he was too late. The face of the man who had beaten him was barely recognizable as a face. Rory stumbled backward again and then turned and threw up.

Detective Inspector Lestrade sat in his car, trying to get to Scotland Yard in the morning traffic. He glanced in the rearview mirror and rubbed his stubbly chin. It had been a bit of a late night with little rest between shifts. He knew he should have taken the time to shave anyway, but he thought he might just try growing a beard. His thoughts were pulled away though by a large, disheveled man tearing across the street.  
“Shit!” Lestrade exclaimed and slammed on his breaks. More people came running out of a building on his left as a police car pulled in, siren blaring. A horn sounded behind Lestrade and he said, “Alright, alright!” and pulled into the driveway next to the other police officer.  
He radioed in to the Yard and informed them that he was investigating something and wouldn’t be in just yet. Then he stepped out of his car and stepped over to the other one. He tapped on the window and flashed his identification. A young woman stepped out and nodded at him.  
“Detective Inspector Lestrade. What’s going on here?”  
“We got an anonymous phone call saying someone had been killed,” she answered in an Edinburgh brogue. “It came in just a few minutes ago.”  
Lestrade nodded. “That’s all you know?”  
“That’s all she said.”  
“What is this place?”  
“Some kind of charitable shelter.”  
The two of them proceeded with caution as another car drove in and two more officers joined them. Inside, the shelter seemed to be abandoned, but the floor was covered in bloody footprints. A few more feet inside and the group let out a simultaneous gasp.  
“Jesus,” Lestrade said and looked away from the body.  
“His face is-“one of the men started to say.  
“Yes, thank you officer,” Lestrade cut in sternly.  
The man gave him an apologetic look and then went to work securing the area. Lestrade and the female officer knelt down beside the beaten man.  
“What do you think happened here?” she asked.  
“Not sure, a fight maybe. I think I saw a stampede of witnesses fleeing the scene right before you drove up. One of them was bound to be your caller as well.”  
“It’s going to be hard to figure out what happened then.”  
The young officer Lestrade had reprimanded had covered almost all of the shelter, but hadn’t found anyone or anything to give him a clue as to what had happened. Way in the back was a makeshift living room area with a sofa, television and a couple of chairs. As he moved closer he thought he could make out what looked like someone curled up on the sofa, under a blanket. He crept closer and carefully lifted the blanket up. All of the officers were instantly startled by the sound of Rory Slippery screaming.  
Lestrade stood and turned toward the living room. “What the hell?”  
The young officer was unsuccessfully trying to calm Rory down. Lestrade could see that the young man was covered in blood and quickly made his way over.  
“It’s alright, we’re the police,” the officer kept repeating.  
Lestrade put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Back up a bit. Give him some room.”  
The officer complied and the two of them watched as Rory stopped screaming. He brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs.  
Lestrade looked him over. He’s bruised and bloody, he thought, but no bruises or cuts on his hands. He didn’t do this, at least not with his fists.

Lestrade sat down on the coffee table across from Rory. Rory was still breathing hard and rocked slightly back and forth.  
“It’s alright now,” Lestrade said softly. “Whatever happened here, it’s over.”  
Rory looked at him and then glanced over at the body on the floor. He quickly looked away again and wiped his bloody nose with his hand. His face was now streaked with blood and tears.  
Lestrade looked up at the young officer and said, “Get me a wet cloth to clean him up.”  
“I’m not sure you should do that Inspector, evidence and all that.”  
“Just do it!”  
“Yes, sir.”  
He turned back to Rory and pulled a pen and notebook out of his pocket. “How about we start with a name.”  
“What name?” Rory asked quietly.  
Lestrade smiled. “Your name.”  
“Rory Slippery,” he answered as the officer returned with the wet wash cloth. He swiped at his nose again, getting more blood all over his hand.  
“Here,” Lestrade said and tried to hand him the wash cloth. When Rory reached for it, though, he noticed the blood covering his hands and panicked. “It’s alright,” Lestrade tried to sooth him. “It’s from your nose. Here,” he said and scooted closer to Rory. As he wiped the blood from Rory’s face he asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”  
At first Rory shrank away, still afraid. After a moment, he let Lestrade hold his head and wipe away the blood, feeling the gentle pressure of Lestrade’s hand on the back of his neck and the warm wet cloth on his face. Some of the numbness he’d been feeling lifted. He took a deep breath and looked at Lestrade properly in the eye for the first time. He told him what had happened from the time he got up to trying to split up the fight. When he reached the point of the dead man turning on him, he choked up.  
“Take your time,” Lestrade said.  
“I thought he was going to kill me, but then the other man grabbed him. He kept hitting him over and over. I tried to stop him, but…” His voice cracked and he let out a shaky breath. “The night shift was supposed to be here. They aren’t supposed to leave until I come in. I was late, though. If I’d just been here…”  
“This isn’t your fault,” Lestrade assured him. “Do you know what they were fighting about or where the other man went?”  
Rory shook his head. “I think they were both high on something. They didn’t seem to be feeling each other’s punches. I don’t know where anyone went. Everyone ran out as soon as the fight was over, the other man too.”  
Lestrade thought back. “Was he a large disheveled man with long dark hair?”  
“Yeah. How did you know?”  
“Because I almost ran him over driving by this place.” He stood and relayed what he knew to the rest of the officers. When he came back he told Rory, “You should let the medics check you out when they get here. I don’t think anything’s broken,” he added, indicating Rory’s nose, “but you should have them take a look anyway.”  
As Lestrade turned to walk away, Rory stood and grabbed his sleeve. Lestrade turned and looked at Rory’s hand and then into his face.  
“Inspector, I don’t know how these investigations work, but I do know that the man you’re looking for was defending me when he did what he did.”  
Lestrade nodded. “We’ll bare that in mind. We’ll keep in touch. We might need your help tracking down these other witnesses.”  
Rory nodded. “Alright. I guess I’ll be here.”

Lestrade left the scene to the forensics unit and continued on to Scotland Yard to start the official paperwork. His job had been a bit slow lately, a rare treat, so he had plenty of time to get the initial report done. He found himself distracted all afternoon though.  
When it was nearly time to pack it up for the day he let his mind wander completely. He found himself staring out the window, shaking a pen back and forth between his fingers. A knock on the door and the word “sir” slowly brought him back to reality. He shook his head, realising that he’d been thinking about his hand on the back of Rory Slippery’s neck.  
He turned to see one of his sergeants standing in the doorway, holding some form or another that required his attention. He waved them in and the form went on top of his other papers. He looked over his desk and realised that he had barely touched his report. He guessed he’d just have to take his work home. Not that there was anything else waiting for him there anyway.  
Home wasn’t much better. Lestrade sat at his kitchen table, writing down the little that he really knew, knowing that it wasn’t the kind of case his superiors would like him to devote his time to. He rubbed his tired eyes, thinking of the shaken, but brave young man he’d met that day. He’d found a nice looking face under all that blood and reckoned that Rory would be down right beautiful once the swelling went down. His bright blue-green eyes had been full of life and honesty.  
“What am I doing?” Lestrade suddenly scolded himself. He felt a growing confusion and desire in the back of his mind and he tried to squash it with a scotch and a nicotine patch. It helped a bit, at least enough to finish the report and get to sleep.  
The next day he drove back to the shelter to talk to Rory again. As he walked through the front door he noticed that the place was almost as deserted as it had been the morning before. Rory was in the back again, holding a broom and having an argument with another young man.  
“I am fine,” Rory insisted with a note of finality. Lestrade noticed a deep confident resonance in the voice today. He must have been coping well or covering it up. Either way, Lestrade liked the sound of Rory’s voice.  
The other young man turned in a bit of a huff and brushed by Lestrade without even looking at him. Rory watched him go with a frown and then saw Lestrade and smiled.  
“Inspector, come on in.”  
Lestrade walked over to him and grimaced. Rory’s bruises actually looked worse, but Lestrade knew it was to be expected the day after.  
“I assure you that I look worse than I feel,” Rory said.  
“Good,” Lestrade replied and gestured back towards the door.  
“Oh, that was my brother, Dan. He doesn’t think it’s safe for me to work here anymore, much less live here for that matter. I told him I was staying, that it’s important work.”  
“Well, good on you.”  
Rory smiled again and blushed. “Thank you. So what can I do for you today?”  
Lestrade pulled his mind away from the thought of Rory’s blush and what it might mean and said, “The place still looks deserted.”  
“Yes. I think people are afraid to come in now.”  
“Well, I was wondering if you could remember who was here yesterday morning and where I might find them?”

“Oh, of course,” Rory replied.  
The two of them sat down at a table and began going over the day before again. Rory had thought about it a lot and tried to cover every detail. Lestrade was impressed with how calm and thoughtful he was about it.  
After awhile, Rory made coffee for the two of them and then came back to the table. He placed a cup in front of the older man and then sat back down with a frown. He’d managed to remember the names and details of almost everyone who had been there, but not the man in the fight.  
“I should remember his name,” he complained. “He remembered me.”  
“Don’t worry, someone will.”  
As they discussed the case, Rory found himself thinking up excuses to get Lestrade to stay longer.  
“What will happen to this man?” he asked.  
Lestrade shrugged. “Hard to say. He has killed a man. The circumstances and his mental state might come into play though.” He glanced at his watch and said, “Well, I really need to get back to the office.”  
Inwardly, Rory frowned, but he only nodded and said, “Of course.”  
“You’ve been a lot of help. With this information we should have the whole thing wrapped up in a few days.” He stood to leave and Rory stood too.  
As Lestrade turned, Rory said, “Uh, do you have a first name or do people just call you Inspector?”  
Lestrade gave him a small smile and said, “It’s Greg.”  
“Oh, well goodbye then, Greg.”  
“Goodbye Rory.”  
Over the next several days Lestrade rounded up most of the witnesses on Rory’s list. He hadn’t been back to the shelter, but Rory was always there, in the back of his mind. Most of the witnesses didn’t remember much, if they admitted to remembering anything at all. There was one who was willing to talk to him, a teenage mother. Lestrade agreed to buy her lunch and she agreed to tell him everything.  
“So you know this man?” he asked as they sat in a café.  
“Oh yeah, he used to come in all the time. He even worked at the shelter once, a long time ago.”  
“He worked there?”  
“Uh-huh. He was one of the shelter’s success stories. He used to be a junkie and they helped him get straightened out. I guess when he started using again they didn’t want him working there anymore.”  
“Have you seen him since the fight? Do you know where I can find him?”  
“Don’t know where he is now, but I saw him at one of the other shelters running his mouth about Rory.”  
“About Rory?” Lestrade said confused. “I thought he was trying to protect Rory?”  
“Yeah, but now he says it as being Rory’s fault he’s in trouble.”  
Lestrade frowned and looked out the window. The thought of Rory being in danger from this man had created a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
“It’s a shame too. He was a big deal.”  
“Hmm?” Lestrade said, pulled from his reverie.  
“Oh yeah, they even gave him all the codes to the place.”  
“What codes?”  
“The ones for the front door, the offices, the basement.”  
“The basement!” Lestrade said with a curse and jumped out of his chair. He ran outside, hopped into his car and sped away towards the shelter.

Lestrade called in for more officers to meet him at the scene and then cursed the London traffic.  
Meanwhile, Rory was in his bathroom, undressing. He turned on a tap, waited for the water to heat up and then stepped into his tiny shower. He didn’t hear the code being punched in on the door at the top of the stairs or the sound of footsteps descending. He thought he heard something when the bathroom door opened, but he figured it was just something upstairs.  
Suddenly, the shower curtain was ripped away and two strong hands grabbed him and slammed him against the shower wall. He coughed and saw the man from the fight pull a knife out from under his coat.  
Rory shook his head and put his hands up. “Please don’t. You don’t want to do this.”  
The man shouted at him, but was grabbed from behind as he tried to stab Rory. He and the knife went flying out of the shower. Rory crouched down and squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the sounds of a scuffle and what was unmistakably Lestrade’s voice. He thought he heard more people too as the fight made its way out of the bathroom. After a few minutes it got relatively quiet, but Rory didn’t move. He was startled by a hand on his shoulder and yelled out.  
“It’s ok, kid,” Lestrade said, taking him by the arm and helping him up. He grabbed Rory’s bath robe and wrapped in around him. “The man’s on his way to jail. It’s over.”  
“Why did he want to kill me?” Rory asked as he allowed himself to be led out of the bathroom.  
Apparently, he blamed you for what happened, like you made him do it or something.”  
Rory just shook his head and sat down on the sofa. The police spent a couple of hours going over what had happened, collecting evidence and taking statements. Lestrade ended up being part of the case instead of an investigator since he had barged in alone and beaten the man half to death.  
“You were trying to save my life,” Rory protested.  
“Yeah, well, I came in a bit half-assed didn’t I? Doesn’t matter. I could use a day off anyway.” He rubbed a weary brow and then said, “I think they’ve wrapped it all up for the day. You need to get your bosses to change those codes.”  
Rory nodded and then blurted out, “What about you? You don’t have to go with them do you? You could stay, I mean so there’s someone else here.”  
Lestrade frowned and then nodded. “Yeah. Why not?”  
The two of them ordered a take away and sat at Rory’s little dining table to eat and talk. Rory’s nerves were still shot, but Lestrade managed to get him laughing anyway. They put on a DVD, but things got quiet and awkward as the two of them became sleepy and started thinking about going to bed.  
“Well, I’m exhausted,” Rory finally said with a stretch.  
“Yeah,” Lestrade agreed.  
Rory stood and turned to Lestrade. “I have the sofa here and an extra blanket somewhere.” He turned and looked at his bed in the corner and then said, “Or…”  
“Or what?” Lestrade said, standing up behind Rory.  
Rory turned to find Lestrade right behind him which caused him to stumble backwards and sit down on the bed.  
Lestrade chuckled and shook his head. “The sofa’s fine.”  
Rory stood quickly and said, “No. I mean, I’d like it if you…”  
Lestrade stared at him for a moment, his mind racing. I shouldn’t be doing this. He’s practically a kid, he thought. He ran his fingers through his hair and then nodded. “Ok.”  
Rory smiled and climbed in under his covers. Lestrade sat on the edge of the bed, afraid to look at him. Christ, but he was beautiful. It was then that Rory noticed Lestrade’s wedding ring. He couldn’t believe he’d never paid attention before. He stared at it and felt a pain in his chest.  
“Are you married then, Greg?” he asked quietly and nodded toward the ring.  
Lestrade glanced down and smiled a sad smile. He fiddled with the ring and said, “What, this old thing?” He sighed and added, “Nah. My wife left, well, ages ago now. I don’t…know why I still wear it.” He slipped it off his finger and carefully placed it on Rory’s night stand.  
The younger man could see the struggle that it had been for him, but felt overwhelmed with relief anyway. Lestrade was quiet then, but he stood and stripped down to his shorts.  
Rory watched him, mesmerized and stifled a gasp. He moved over to let Lestrade under the covers and the two of them laid there looking into each other’s eyes. Then Lestrade reached over and turned out the light. Rory wrapped his arms around himself and Lestrade didn’t try to move any closer. He just put an arm around the younger man’s shoulders and they both fell asleep before they could even say anything.  
Sometime in the night, Lestrade woke to the sound of Rory’s stifled moans. He had his face half buried in his pillow and his eyes squeezed shut. Lestrade shook him and could feel the sweat drenching Rory’s body.  
“Rory,” he said and shook him again. Rory yelled out and his eyelids flew open. “It’s alright,” Lestrade whispered.  
Rory only stared, wide-eyed for a moment, breathing hard, until reality began to sink in. Then he teared up and shook his head. “You probably think I’m a silly kid,” he said.  
“Never. The way you’ve handled this has been very brave, as brave as I’ve seen.”  
“Really?”  
Lestrade nodded. “Believe me.”  
“I hate feeling afraid though.”  
“Are you still afraid of me?”  
Rory looked into the older man’s face, his big brown eyes soft and gentle. He shook his head and caressed Lestrade’s smooth cheek. “You shaved,” he said. “I like you better this way.”  
Lestrade smiled and pulled Rory’s chin closer. He brushed his lips lightly against Rory’s and felt a fire begin to burn deep inside. Rory felt it too and kissed back harder. Lestrade’s lips parted and he felt Rory’s tongue pressing against his teeth. He wanted in so Lestrade let him, savouring the warm, wet onslaught.  
After a few minutes they came up for air and Rory moved back. He avoided Lestrade’s eyes and said, “I’ve never done this before.”  
Lestrade grinned and lifted Rory’s chin again until the younger man looked at him. “That’s ok,” he said. “I have.”  
Slowly, he undressed Rory, planting kisses on the pale, young body. He delighted in all the freckles and moles, licking and nipping at them until Rory started giggling and told him to stop. Finally, he stripped off his own shorts, his erection hard and throbbing now.  
Rory took a deep breath at the sight, but Lestrade kissed him and told him to turn over onto his stomach. Rory followed his lead and propped himself up on his elbows. Lestrade spread his legs and settled between them.  
“Shh,” he said, caressing the younger man who was so nervous he was trembling. He kissed the back of Rory’s neck, distracted again by the way his hair formed a little tail at the bottom. Then he moved on to sucking an earlobe. This made Rory laugh too and Lestrade smiled. Finally, Lestrade moved down Rory’s back and began massaging his small, but well formed bottom. He spread his cheeks and bent over to begin coaxing Rory open. A sharp intake of breath let him know that his tongue had startled Rory, but the younger man relaxed and allowed him to continue.  
Soon, Rory was moaning and Lestrade went into the bathroom and found a jar of Vaseline to use as lubricant. He settled back into his spot between Rory’s legs and spread the Vaseline on his hands. He gently began working a finger into Rory.  
“Relax,” he said and stroked Rory’s back with his other hand. He felt the muscles begin to relax and quickly worked in another finger. Rory let out a loud groan partly muffled by his pillow.  
When Lestrade sensed that Rory was ready he took an old condom he’d been carrying around in his wallet and put it on. Then he slathered on some Vaseline and carefully laid down on top of Rory. He put an arm around him and settled his face into his shoulder.  
“I’m not too heavy for you am I?” he asked.  
“No, it feels nice.”  
Slowly, Lestrade used his other hand to guide himself to the right spot and gently pushed a little inside Rory. Rory gasped and Lestrade pulled back. He pushed in again and this time Rory lifted up to meet him. Lestrade smiled and ventured in a little deeper.  
“Oh god,” Rory whispered.  
After a couple of minutes Rory was breathing hard and moaning. He pushed back further and faster and Lestrade sat up and put a hand on Rory’s lower back.  
“Relax. Not so fast.”  
“I can’t help it,” Rory groaned and Lestrade pulled out to let them both breathe for a moment. They were both already slick with sweat and Rory’s back was red from the pressure of Lestrade on top of him.  
“Turn over,” he said to Rory. “I wanna see your face.”  
Rory grinned at the idea and flipped over onto his back.  
“Now relax and enjoy it,” Lestrade added.  
Rory nodded as Lestrade lifted up his legs and found entry again. The two of them found a more manageable rhythm and Lestrade watched as Rory’s face took on a serene quality. His mouth was open and cracked in a tiny smile and his eyes were closed. The minutes of pleasure ticked by and Lestrade began to wonder if he shouldn’t have let them finish early. He was getting tired and his balls felt like they were about to explode. He quickened the pace and Rory opened his eyes. To Lestrade he looked as if he had sensed the older man’s doubts about being able to satisfy him.  
“What are you grinning at?”  
Rory just shook his head and continued to stare at him. Lestrade leaned over and stretched out his legs behind him. He’d been holding back, but now he plunged his full length into Rory. Rory yelled out and arched his back.  
“Oh god, Greg!”  
Lestrade pulled out, but only a little and then plunged back in, putting constant pressure on Rory’s prostate, causing him to rear again.  
They began bucking wildly and Lestrade yelled out, “Come already, damn it!”  
This caused both of them to start laughing and suddenly Rory let out a strangled cry. He arched off the bed so hard that Lestrade thought the two of them would go toppling off. He could feel warm semen cover his stomach where he was pressed against Rory.  
“Bloody hell,” he said with a chuckle as he felt his own release fill the condom deep inside the younger man. After a moment Rory’s back muscles relaxed and the two men laid there, unmoving and exhausted.  
A few minutes later, Lestrade sat up and looked Rory over. He was lying there looking serene again so Lestrade gave him a kiss and then went into the bathroom to wash up a bit. When he came back out with a washrag, Rory had already cleaned up and was putting his pyjamas back on.  
“So that’s it?” Lestrade teased. “Wham bam and there’s the door.”  
Rory smiled slyly and threw Lestrade’s shorts, hitting the older man in the face with them.  
“Gee, thanks.”  
The two of them crawled back into bed and slept soundly until morning.  
Meanwhile, at the Slippery residence, Daniel Slippery had gone to visit his parents early the next morning before going to work. They sat at the kitchen table, sipping cups of coffee while Daniel told his parents of the mortal peril his brother had gotten himself in to.  
“Attacked?” their father, Paul Slippery, repeated in disbelief. “What do you mean attacked?”  
“There was a fight at the shelter, a man died. Rory tried to break them up, but they beat him up too.”  
Estelle Slippery put down her mug as if her coffee had gone off and swallowed hard.  
“Did you say a man died?” Paul asked.  
“Yeah, a homeless guy who was staying at the shelter. He was fighting with another one. He did a number on Rory too, black eye, bloody nose and everything. I tried to tell him to move out of the place, but he wouldn’t listen.”  
Suddenly, his parents were out of their seats and headed for the front door. Daniel sat back and watched them go with a nod.  
Paul and Estelle drove quickly to the shelter where their eldest son worked. It was still early, but the place had been empty the night before so there was no one there apart from employees. They made their way to the desk and demanded to see Rory.  
“We gave him the day off,” said a middle-aged woman who appeared to them to be in charge. “After what happened last night and all,” she added.  
“Last night?” Estelle repeated. “I thought the fight was a few days ago.”  
“Oh yeah, but the other guy came back last night, wanted to kill Rory apparently.”  
Paul started sputtering and Estelle shook her head. “We’re Rory’s parents,” she said.  
“Oh! It’s alright. Rory’s just fine. The police came and arrested the man. Rory’s been taking it all really well actually.”  
“Can we see him?” Paul asked.  
“Well…I’ll go ahead and give you the code for his room. We’ll be changing it today anyway. Some company might do him some good.”  
Two teenage girls, volunteers at the shelter, had been watching the exchange. They hurried over to the desk as Rory’s parents walked away.  
“You didn’t give them the code did you?” one of them asked.  
“It’s alright. They’re his parents.”  
They both shook their heads and then the other girl whispered, “It’s just that he’s not…” she trailed off, but the boss just stared at her. “He’s not alone,” the girl finished.  
Their boss made an “Oh,” sound and the first girl added, “That cop that barged in to save him yesterday; he never left.”  
They all glanced over at the basement door, but it was already too late.  
Paul and Estelle made their way down the steps, noticing that the basement was still dark.  
“Maybe he’s still asleep,” Estelle said softly. “He’d need his rest after everything that’s happened.”  
They walked into the one room flat and glanced around in the dim light. Estelle figured that the bed must be in the corner, hidden from view by the bathroom wall. She started in that direction.  
“Maybe he’s gone out already,” Paul whispered.  
Estelle walked around the wall and what she saw made her stop in her tracks. “Or maybe it’s something completely different,” she said, staring.  
Paul walked up to her and said, “What could he possibly-“ He stopped midsentence. “Is that man shirtless?” he whispered.  
“Uh-huh,” Estelle answered, still staring.  
“With our eldest son wrapped around him?”  
“Uh-huh.”  
The two of them watched the sleeping forms of Rory and Lestrade and then Estelle broke into silent giggles. Paul stared at her in disbelief until she caught her breath.  
“Obviously he really is fine, Paul. We should probably go.”  
“I,” Paul started, but didn’t know what to say. “I mean….when did this happen?”  
“I don’t know,” Estelle answered. Suddenly Rory moaned and stretched in his sleep and Estelle added,” Let’s go!”  
They hurried back up the stairs and saw the manager and teenage girls watching them. They were trying, very unsuccessfully, to look natural. Paul and Estelle quickly walked by the desk, but the manager couldn’t let it go.  
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I had no idea.”  
Paul and Estelle stopped and turned. Paul said, “Yes, neither did we.”  
Estelle gave him a reproving look, but had to admit she found it a bit of a shock as well.  
They were about to turn and walk away when one of the girls stepped forward and said, “He saved Rory’s life you know.”  
“Estelle frowned and said, “Who did?”  
This time the other girl stepped forward. “The guy downstairs, the one Rory fancies. He’s a copper. He’s the one who saved Rory’s life last night.”  
Rory’s parents looked at one another and Paul said, “I guess he’s in good hands then.”  
Downstairs, Rory stretched again and opened his eyes. Then he yawned too and his movements woke Lestrade.  
“Good morning,” he said and Rory just grinned, resting his chin on Lestrade’s chest.  
Lestrade glanced at his watch on the night stand and then sat up against the wall. Rory moved to let him up, but senses that something was wrong.  
“What is it?” he asked, sitting in front of the older man.  
Lestrade avoided his questioning eyes and said, “I shouldn’t have stayed last night.”  
Rory felt his heart sink and tears sting his eyes. “Why not?” he had to ask.  
Lestrade shook his head. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You were vulnerable and emotional.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “I mean, what would you want with me? I could be your father for Christ’s sake.”  
Rory started laughing and Lestrade gave him a quizzical look. “No, you really couldn’t,” he said.  
Lestrade smiled. “Nothing like him, huh?”  
“No,” Rory answered still chuckling and shaking his head. After a moment he stopped and the two of them just stared at each other. Then he leaned forward and hugged Lestrade tightly.  
They held on for awhile until Lestrade felt tears of his own. He gently pushed the younger man back. Then he stood up and turned away while he wiped the tears from his eyes. He walked to Rory’s tiny window and looked outside.  
“No work for either of us today so what do you wanna do?” he asked.  
“Well, we could stay here,” Rory answered.  
Lestrade turned to see Rory lying on his side with his head propped on an elbow and a sly grin on his face. He let the curtain fall and smiled.


End file.
